Ah, stress, how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways. Oh wait, there's a gazillions ways I hate you. For all the reasons I can think of, including but not limited to: My neck seizing. The tactical targeting of my immune system. Dotting my face with breakouts. Sweating- profuse amounts of sweating. Trouble sleeping. My short temper. I am snappy. I don't like anything about myself or anyone else for that matter. My tolerance and patience is zip! Then there's the stress eating, which just makes me feel worse about the rest of these shenanigans. So, I decided to take a deep breathe, a yoga class, a long walk and a nap...you know, just to see how the Stress with a capital S reacted.
Well, Stress isn't stupid and it's oddly patient. Avoidance doesn't equal Stress-execution. Stress waits, while I am hovering in warrior pose. I awake from my nap to find it staring me in the face. Stress is a Siamese twin joined to me at the heart. Stress you persistent eh-hole (this stress is very Canadian;)) you just won't leave me alone. So, deep breath, I pick up my blog and write a letter to stress:
Stress,
I do not accept you. The way you make me feel and the way you steal my energy for things I should be psyched about. Every time you tag along I feel like I could puke or punch someone out or cry. How do you expect to make friends if you treat everyone like this way? Wouldn't you rather be enthusiasm? Or perhaps butterflies? If you would like to explore alternate careers, please let me know and we can talk it out.
Hopefully,
Melicious
PS You've made my butt look fat in these pants- what's your plan for that?
Dropping this letter sealed with a kiss into the Universal mail box, I hope Stress gets the jist. But like any courier UMS is hit or miss. As for me; I will continue to encourage myself to grow, participate, put myself out there. The more I act like the person I want to be; the easier it is to be that person. Slowly, but surely I have begun to realize the things I was stressing over might not be so bad. The fear of failure was stressing me out- but the need to express myself and live regret free is a way bigger win, well worth the stress. Change is stressful, but it's something I can handle. I'll just catch Stress, then quarantine it, rehabilitate it and release it back into the wild. Otherwise let's hope all Stress needed was a strongly worded letter.
Okay, okay, so this is gonna sound crazy, but it's a true story. Two Novembers ago I found myself shopping for no reason in a store that was way too expensive. Sometimes the urge to soothe the self-loathing Sundays with retail therapy overtakes and I am powerless against her demands. So, recognizing I wasn't purchasing something of purpose, I was merely filling the gap, I took it down a notch. After perusing the mounted deer head painted white and the ironically scratchy sweaters, I stumbled across a teeny $12 motivational soap dish. Huh, it was the cheapest thing in the whole store so I bought it. Proudly purchasing my soap dish I was happy also extremely happy I had put make-up on and was wearing my vintage glasses since unwittingly, I'd landed smack-bang in hipster haven. Swinging my brown paper bag out of this teeny boutique, I remember forgetting what I'd even bought until I unwrapped it at home. A motivational moment each time I wash my hands. A single solitary action and meditation matched in the single serving size of washing your hands. Didn't seem like anything so special, until I realized it was.
Having a motto, a plan, a strategy, a safe word. Affirming yourself. Every self help Schmoe hosting a weekend seminar is spewing catch phrases to live happily. People are begging to be happy. People are blogging to be happy. There are groups of people who don't know how to be happy. People fighting for the joy they were banking on. Multitudes of folks who don't know how to be themselves and need to be taught by a stranger. When will we understand why these people wanting so badly to be happy can't be? When does sadness become a national health concern? The one thing they've got going for them is they know they can be better, happier and they hope to be saner. Ah, hope, happiness and sanity: the trifecta.
There's a reason that self help is so popular. You are just the right self to help you out. But flip a coin and I agree the mumbo jumbo is no bull. Knowing that each time I wash my hands I affirm myself. I pledge to lead by example. To be brave and true. That's a big assignment. That's a lot to ask of myself but the soap dish commands it. It continues to demand excellence. Every day my soap dish holds me accountable. My superficial purchase that was to be devoid of meaning actually became the mantra behind my initiative to change. Of course there were other factors: thank you Momma, Papa B, Hubby, BFF, Bucy & Bean for all your support and snuggles. But honestly, I think it really was the soap dish:)
It's easier said than done. You know how I know that? I've said a lot, and it never gets done. I am a logical thinker. The straight line, the path of least resistance, the straight and narrow. Growing up I always thought I knew better. Watching the poor decisions of others, I could predict the situation outcome. Not only did I think I knew better than my friends, but I knew better than my Parents and every other adult. Did I actually know better than any of them? Probably not, actually, I know for a fact that I didn't and still don't know best. Because if I did, I would be able to say it and then do it. Plus nobody likes the know it all, just watch any movie set in a classroom, recognize the know-it-all? She doesn't have many allies- unless it's test day.
Over the last year I have come to realize that getting things done is a complex 7 piece puzzle. Now, you may say, Melicious, 7 piece puzzles are for kids. Well, this 7 piece life puzzle is a challenge on the clearest, happiest and most balanced of days and not even attemptable on the dark, hazy lonely afternoons trapped in your own mind. You see these pieces change shape. They never fit together the same way. It's not a puzzle you can memorize. And each Let's Do This! puzzle is the same 7 pieces in a different configuration. There is a pieces for saying you want it done, actually wanting to do it, planning to do it. There's a piece that organizes and one that initiates. And a piece for actually doing it. Oh and the last puzzle piece is the one that keeps you doing it, because nothing gets done and stays done without a bit of tenacity. The important parts of solving a puzzle with ever changing pieces is knowing that it will always be a new experience and new outcome plus discovering new things you didn't know you didn't know. Be warned there is no picture on the front of the life goal puzzle box.
So, may I suggest that all this talk is getting us know-where? See what I did there?*insert coy wink. There are so many things people want and feel they deserve, demanding their ideal outcome but when it comes down to being a wo-man of action, they may fall short. Refusing to see the obstacles standing between an off-handed marathon remark and standing at the finish line puffing with the satisfaction of a job well done. If getting what you wanted was easy we'd have it already. If the universe was just going to take care of us we wouldn't have the drive to change, to improve, to excel. There is nothing shameful in being the know it all, the brown-noser, the tryer or the eager beaver, as long as you know it will take a lot more than you know, to get what you want. It will take all 7 of those puzzle pieces to build the picture you want to be.
Note: Life Puzzle for ages 15+ But everyone should try at least once.
There is nothing new. You know how people say that? It's all just recycled versions of a joke that was already punched, an idea that was already patented. It's all been done before. Which for a creative person hurts my feelings and my chances. How can I break away if there will never be something new ever again.
Often people hear my off hand remarks and ask: what's that from? Offended I would say I just made it up. My interrogator squinting in disbelief, scrolling through their witty bank, searching for inaccuracies. But I'll stick to my creative guns. I would be amiss to say I have no inspiration. That I am museless. Or even uninfluenced by my environment, my interests or tastes. All of which I am and do and are and want to be. Creating something special or even just a hint of it is a daily goal. Something every creative person should strive for. I'm not saying that every night is a night to write a song about or a game changer. But I'm thankful for the nights that are.
So, if everything has been done, what's left to do? The only thing left is for me is to do, is do it. The only way for me to change it is to do it uniquely. Meliciously. Not like Frankie, not like Usher. My Way. The only person who sees the world the way you do is: wait for it: you. And the only person who can do things with that oh so special Meliciousness? Well, that's me. So, I guess that's where we creative folk find ourselves. Does the attempt to be brave and bold make us creative? Not necessarily, but there is the undying notion that everything old can be new again. And I am just the vintage lady to find that tarnished treasure, shine it up real pretty and present it with new life. Oh yeah, and sell it to you at a much higher price, of course.
 Alternate titles include: The Resolutionator, My Body/My Self, Everything Old is New Again, You Say Goodbye, I Say Hello and This is Going to be the BEST Year Ever- the Farmer's Almanac said so. Well, jingle my Xmas bell and ring in the New Year! I've missed all 6 of my loyal readers! And am enjoying my new found popularity in the Russian market. Who knew they were fans of the middle of the road humour I am all about. Hmmm*insert shrug. There have been a multitude of changes over the past 2 weeks... For one you might've noticed the image to the right...Why yes, that is my new logo. Oh really? You think so? I'm a big fan too. I am also planning on a huge website overhaul to celebrate my first blog-iversary- Exciting times for those of us on the ground floor. Many more floors planned, but I am awaiting zoning by-law approval. Now, this Year's resolutions include soon to be classics and renewals of the ever popular standards. For example I am taking level 2 Ukeology with my Fav teacher Judy Marshak, a continuation of last year's initiative. There has been significant progress on my YA novels, so that's coming off the back burner and being put onto the mid-burner. I am back to being a pescetarian, which is a type of omnivore. A fancy way of saying meat makes me sad and sick, plus fish can't cry, they don't have tear ducts. Hubby and I have also started juicing. The amazing flavours of cabbage and kale finally in one condensed murky glass...that was sarcasm, though most of his concoctions have been a dis-licious veggie blast. The whole eating right and exercise thing seemed to be working, so that is to be continued with renewed fervour. Which brings me to what I have been worried about...I owe us a weigh in. Sigh. I'll be honest, all the goodies and boozes and baddies caught up with me this holiday season. For example, Hubby and I finished a box of Ferrero Rochers in a sitting, mind you it was a Sons of Anarchy marathon, so it was over a few hours, but still. Those delicious hazelnut nuggets went down like butter... which I also ate a lot of. Looking at myself in the gym wall mirror this week has given me pause. I am definitely up... but just how much is yet to been seen. So, I guess it's time for us to see what comes of bad decisions.
And now for the moment I've been avoiding: Week 12 measurements
Height still 5'8"
Weight 173.6 (-2.6 lbs)
Bust 40 (-/+)
Natural waist 33.5 (+.5")
Hips 44 (+1")
Arm flex r:13.5 (+.5") l:13.5 (-/+)
Arm rest r: 12.5 (-1") l:12.75 (-.75")
Thigh standing r: 25 (+.25) l:24.5 (-/+)
For a total gain of .5 inches but a loss of 2.6 lbs
That is one strange weigh in. I knew that I would be up, but to also be down... It's a wonder that people don't drive themselves crazy with their numbers. From what I understand the muscle I gained before the holidays helped me to fend off some of the weight, though not the bloating. Oh and as had been the pattern no inches gained or lost on my bust line. Surprise, surprise, surprise. I am definitely happy to be back on track, it's not necessarily a fast track, but now I know what direction I am going. So as soon as that Pot of Gold is gone I will be back to my strict no junk regime...I mean who can resist that chocolatey flavour rainbow?
Dear Santa,
How are you? I thought I would ask so that I could prove that I am considerate and should in fact be on the nice list- in case there were concerns. I know I've seen you twice this year, but I didn't have my list with me. Plus, when I saw you up close I grew genuinely worried about your health, specifically your blood sugar level and cholesterol. Have you been pre-screened for diabetes? At your age, (what are you now 70ish?) these are things you should start to worry about. Especially this time of year; it can be stressful and strenuous. I also think that we're ready for a new fashionable update to your look. Of course you're comfortable with the red velvet standard, but we've made many advancements in apparel technology. You know you can you always ask Mrs. Clause, for something other than socks and underwear. Which reminds me, jolly red man, there are a few things I have on my list.
1. Socks and underwear. I have worn through the pairs you gave me last year. There are holes and snags, stains- on the toes of my socks and frayed elastics on the waistbands of my underpants. A couple pairs of wool work socks with red ringers and a 3 pack of panties would be great.
2. Mittens, of the handmade woollen variety. Preferably to match my fav hat. Replacing the sentimental mittens I lost already this year.
3. A new North Face winter coat. The stuffing on my current Charlie Brown jacket is sticking out my armpits, tar-lessly feathering me. I look like an ironically overgrown chicken pretending to be a vintage lady.
4. A juice Tiger- or similar non-fiction device for juicing fruit and veggies. A big star beside this item. Though that is mostly because my Hubby has now convinced himself that he needs one, even though we had an industrial juicer sit on our counter for 3 years and he never used it.
5. Roomba or Air purifier, something to help keep the fur-babies in check. I don't know about Reindeer, but dogs and cats shed like it's their mandate to weave their tiny white hairs into every fibre of every fabric and build fur pucks underneath all of our fur-niture.
6. Is there room in your sac for a vacation? I mean a really, real vacation. One where I don't have to do anything? But absorb some vitamin D, mojitos and get sand in every nook and crevice.
7. A Christmas tree? I think my Momma & Papa B have forgotten that the Christmas Spirit actually lives in the Yuletide boughs. I don't mind decorating it, as Bro will help me. We'll even take it down.
8. A world tour to see my friends far and wide. A party with the Home team advantage for those near. And a country wide sprawl to visit with the Happy Hatress, the East Coast Momma, the Winnipeg Whirlwind and the West Coast Doppleganger.
9. Oh, and a new web host for my Blog. With an easier myPad application. Cuz from what I hear, easier is typically faster and more fun.
Well, Santa I don't want to keep you much longer, just wanted to make sure you got my letter. I know it's short notice, but I put the wrong postal code on my snail mail. BTW- pretty strange how it's HOH OHO, I assume as per canadian postal services those O's are actually Zeros. Here's to a Happy Holiday. Maybe I'll see you at your timeshare in the Canary Islands, as Hubby and I wouldn't mind sharing our vaca with you and the Mrs.
Happy Christmas, Santa, I love you.
Melicious but Nice
P.S. Jilly wants a new garbage ball she finds on the side of the road. And Lucy wants some more time dog-free.
A few blogs ago I initiated a challenge. My goal was to focus and narrow in on one of my passing fancies. Writing. Now, you may say, Melicious you write everyday. Aw, you noticed? But I don't write with a goal in mind. I have a tendency to vary my interests. Which is great for those Squirrel! moments, when I can't remember what I wanted to do, I just look around and see something shiny and decide to play with that. In my short busy life, I have been an esthetician, a bartender, a box office attendent, a drive thru attendent, a cruise director, a bead stringer, a stationary creator, well, you get the point. Hubby is proud of coining the phrase: "Melicious loves to collect. She collects other people's hobbies and jobs.". He's right of course. It's a rare genetic form of career hoarding. I mean how embarrassing would it be if someone asked me a question I didn't have the answer to, or worse, wanted me to do a job I didn't know how to do. I might look stupid. The upside of course, I love learning. I hereby plant this flag as the Master of Being Jack of All Trades.
The love of learning is key to the actor's life, otherwise how would we know what you to do if we were supposed to act like a cop, a robber, or a pizza delivery guy- who's really an undercover cop. These are important questions. Learning is also the tether that keeps the writing ball in play. Being able to predict the outcomes of situations each different character finds themselves in. The characters are important and their lives are as different from each other as they are from my own. Imagination and learned information is the key to unlocking the stories of the fictional folks in Book Town. I mean stories would be pretty boring if the only character the writer knew how to write was themselves, unless of course it's an autobiography, in which case that's acceptable. This blog is mostly about me, but that's what blogs are all about. My writing and acting are all about others. And in most cases fake people. Learning how the world works and how people fit in as cogs in the grand scheme is a ticking coo-coo clock, waiting to chime the hour. And I always want to know what time it is.
The laser beam that has become my focus may start to burn right through my artistic obstacles which include but are not limited to: fear of failure, fear of success, regret and laziness. My brain is still jammed full of half baked ideas and schemes. But knowing that if I don't actually put the effort forward I have only myself and my distractions to blame. So, for now I am focused on becoming the next big thing in YA literature that goes mainstream. Turns into a billion dollar franchise, with a beloved series of movies and trademarked memorabilia. It's a cosmic goal, but I am aiming for the moon, hoping to end up amongst the stars. The passing fancies on the back burner have been simmering for a while, and I look forward to bringing some of those stew pots to the front burner and then eating my heart out. There are very important things that I still need to learn, but I will never lose my lust for consuming the knick knack info that sticks in this noggin and tickles my fancy. Those tidbits eventually become a part of my stories and the stories of Book Town. I am writing here and in aCloud to help us learn that fancy things come from passing along the information we've learnt. So, that's today's lesson. An apple for the teacher, if you please.
Baby steps, taking your time and half measures- I can't say I'm a fan. I have been told once or twice *insert throat clear* I mean a lot, that I put too much pressure on myself. Expecting to achieve life long dreams in dog years. C'mon Melicious get it together! Yesterday's appearance on a National morning show was exhilarating. Being invited to a movie premiere, picked up at the Breaking Dawn (Twilight reference) in a schmancy car and broadcasting my smile across the country was amazing. So, why, as soon as I finished did I feel like I was under-achieiving? Why couldn't I just allow myself one day of gratitude and celebration? Oh, that's right, because I put a lot of pressure on myself and never quite live up to my own insanely high standards.
There are so very many reasons that I should celebrate. I have a loving Hubby, a great group of friends-that I don't see often enough-wicked family, a steady job, a few great ideas and my health. Plus the Puppa tink and Bucy goose, which goes without saying. So, why is it I can't just be happy with what I've got? There is a theory floating around that it may be genetic. Allow me to elaborate: My Momma opened a retail store this past week, before finishing her current term as Councillor, while still working a full time job. My Papa B who builds bathrooms on the weekend, while digging up the front and side yard and runs a company with 5 fulltime staff. Of these lists I have also left off their volunteer habits, their assorted groups and clubs, oh yeah and sleeping/eating- a highly undervalued commodity in our household. I am not blaming them- it's better than being raised by some no-good-lay-abouts with a reputation for no-good! But watching them strive to better themselves has challenged me to do the same. Only worse, because I do it Artistically.
While attending performing arts school I learned to express myself. To climb every mountain and dream the impossible dream. Well, here's a surprise, artists don't get paid much, so to supplement my pro-bono art, I work really hard at other things. But this leaves me tired and uninspired...and a bit pouty. My big fat bottom lip hanging out just waiting for a bird to perch. Don't get me wrong. I am of course grateful for all I have, I just thought I would be further along on this journey. Closer to having a vacation. Closer to finishing my book. Closer to being thin. And just closer to not being so far away from my-sometimes unrealistic- goals. Here's the thing, I know that half the fun is getting there, I just wish the directions were a little more clear. Though, I guess I am to blame for that too, as I keep changing the destination...but that's a story for another time.
There are some people who don't like the idea of a little girl (or boy) wanting to be a Princess. Well, I thought it was time we clear the air in this stuffy castle tower. The only problem I have with a little girl (or boy) wanting to be a Princess is if they don't realize it means a lot of hard work and hurtful stereotypes. A Princess has to be ready for anything.
There are many different types of Princesses. Some are born into it, some marry into it and some who've chosen that life path. The anti-princess people have only ever seen their side of the argument. Princesses are entitled, demanding and weak. And sadly, I admit that they can be right. That some real life Princesses are not good people. But some real world Princesses-especially those who don't have an official title- are invaluable to their kingdom.
Being an unregistered Princess, I have been judged. I'm naive, though I consider it hopeful. I'm over sensitive, but I prefer the term tender. A Princess who chooses their path knows there will be pitfalls and hopes to avoid them. Leading her subjects to safety and ultimately happiness. But the most important part about being a Princess is fighting for what is true and good. Love is a huge part of that. What else could invite tiny woodland creatures to your side? Have them compose a tune in your honour and convince them to make you the most beautiful ball gown...I mean obviously, you must be lovely. It is a Princess' duty to protect the weak. Being a Princess means that you have to work hard at being the royal beacon your kingdom can follow and be proud of. So, take that Princess-haters, but swallow it with a spoonful of sugar- it'll go down easier:)
If you got a problem yo I'll solve it. If you have a gap I can fill it. I am your go to gal for all things great and small. Writer's cramp? I will massage it. Strained emotion? I will decompress it. If you need something it's quite likely I can do it, or at the very least I know someone who can get it for you. I am a great Sidekick, a keen Girl Friday, a worthy friend and a diabolical adversary. I am that girl.
All my life I have been an avid learner. I've always wanted to figure out the world around me. My interest in teaching myself knick-knack-knowledge makes me an invaluable font of information- both useful or useless. I know so many useless facts, formulas and theories that I've been accused of memorizing MindTrap- a card game designed to encourage lateral thinking. I am good with puzzles, especially word games. If you like trivia, I am your gal. If you want to beat someone at trivia- I am even more your girl. But what I am the best at is getting things done.
I am not your typical enforcer. I am a suggestion based outcome manipulator. I have perfected the communication of ideas to the point where others actually believe these ideas were their own. Which can be good and grotesque in equal parts. Lucky folks get to experience things the way I have predicted to be best, but it also means I am held responsible when things go off track. Having people believe that my suggestion are their own idea, has my clients taking all the credit. And as good as I am at most things- sharing is not on that list. Who in the Frak is Sharon?!? With that in mind, have you got a problem to be dealt with? Perhaps you've got a mystery in need of solving. I am a excellent fixer. Though I charge by the hour plus expenses- including disguises :)
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